MASTERPIECE!

Auckland Star, Volume LXX, Issue 303, 23 December 1939, Page 7 (Supplement)

MASTERPIECE!

By i ]. r Shirley !

WHEN the attendants took their conducted parties round the Art Gallery, the Unemployed Man knew that he was never intended to be an exhibit. By all the canons of Art he had no right there. He never came to study the masters like the students, nor to appreciate the public spirit of Sir Joseph Blandman, who had bequeathed' the gallery to the town. He hadn't even tlie vogue interest displayed by the ordinary visitor, certainly never the boisterous enthusiasm of the provincial and overseas eightseers. The Unemployed Man preferred the seats and radiators in the gallery to the paintings. It was the only place in town where one could get a free warm sit down without being turned out, moved on, or arrested for malice aforethought. Never was there a seat vacant in the Blandman Galleries—visitors were frequently annoyed about it. The question had even been debated in Council; but after recriminations, accusations, apologies, and insinuations, the Town Council found that it could do nothing about it. As one member so aptly put it—"They are unemployed—but free; so long as they don't misbehave themselves we can do nothing. The unemployed men have the same ri<jht to visit art galleries as anyone else." ■« So the Unemployed Man sat on, dozed and pulled himself up when his nose touched his top waistcoat button. He must r.ot fall asTeeip for that would be "misbehaviour," and for such indiscretion he would be shown the door. One had to be very clever to doze anJ yet not fall asleep. Once he had been nearly caught ont, but poverty makes the brain cunning and the Unemployed Man had explained to the indignant official that he war only meditating on Rembrandt. Sometimes the Unemployed Man muttered indignant imprecations to.his next door neighbour, a man who could sleep with lii<s eyes open and eat food down his wide open sleeves. "Turn us out —" quoth the Unemployed Man, "why, I helped to give thii place to myself—" Not that hie companion was interested in the point. Talking wasn't altogether a healthy habit in the Blaridman Galleries ... "Sir" Joseph Blandman," the Unemployed Man went on, "for years 1 worked for him in this town and then came bad times and out I went. But 1 often wonder which of them paintings I helped him give £' The Unemployed Man looked upon the gallery as a monument to his own unemployment. Both he and Sir Joseph liad done something in order that the city should have it "for perpetuity." But whereas Sir Joseph hung in splendid oils on the far wall, complete with aldermanic hat and robee—the Unemployed Man hung by the radiator with nothing L-ut rags—and freedom.

Time had ceased to 'hare meaning to him. Days merged into days, like white lights into a misty grey. Things were * forgotten or not worth the remembering. Life was radiator-warmth deep. * And when the four o'clock bell sounded e and one had to shuttle into the street, Hunger walked beside you on the footpath. t: He was a.lwayß_first in of a morning. * Seats by radiators were few and, once f 1 taken, were rarely vacated. The first " essential was to get thoroughly warm. Them, if he hacl been lucky enough to n find a newspaper, he would spend some n time reading it—from the title on the tl front page to the imprint on the back, f' Later, he doze<l, coming to the surface again when an attendant passed, or n when a group of visitors cackled, of t Corot in unnecessarily loud voices. n It was lack of consideration that had ls made the authorities put the best seat P and the warmest radiator opposite the row of Corots for which the Gallery was Sl famois—sleep became almost an impossibility. p The Unemployed Man knew all about J 1 Corot . . .he had listened to explana- J 1 tions, criticisms, histories, and enthusiasms until he thought sometimes he w could take a party round himself. He C! wouldn't know what he was talking w about— but he doubted if it would matter. S 1 "Corot—" 8, It was the Unemployed Man's fiercest w expression of contempt and anger. w They said the pictures were worth c< . thousands of pounds . . . the attend- ci anta knew t.li« valura jvrtwn a Km =.«.

tin-tack. The Unemployed Man had heard so many "Oh&" of incredulous 'j delight that he could tell every "Oh" as T it entered the doorway. He had more liking for those who ] 0 looked at the attendant -in polite dis- a] belief. The Unemployed Man termed p, tliem the "Gam's!" a j Visitors were mostly made up of these two —the "Oh's" and the "Garn's." m Like the attendant, he could appraise tl the amount of anticipated tips from fi; sach party. The Americans tipped best, ei for they were mostly of. the "Oh's." They loved to hear of the dust- | r trapped air, of the uniform heating, of 1 the special glass and psjtcnt flooring—• so much was spent to keep the paint- P* ings clean—they were so valuable. , Visitors would turn from this and jjj meet the blank faces, of the unemployed men with puzzled frowns—sometimes |j they would laugh—it was all so terribly j n funny. a . And then they would pass on and once more the Corots would stare at the tl Unemployed Man like a row of dead memories, murdered phantasies of child- pi ish days, of fields and hills, and white tc pallied. mists in the tender valleys of T lreams—relics of days that now had no tl sense or meaning. w The Unemployed Men liked the parties to move on, for then he could nave a bite of bread on the slv. He P 1 lad developed quite a sleight of hand technique, and although attendants ■vere always suspicious, they had never ;aught him out, nor found a crumb by ivhich to incriminate him. cc During the lunch hours came the high spot of the day, for then, with only half ai :he staff on duty, one could indulge in i quick furtive gasper. The radiators vere shaped like miniature sarcophagi, 111 vith ironwork interlacing that made a C( :onvenient entry for the smoke. By cupping the cigarette in one's hands and

now and then, one could feel for a moment that life wasn't so bad after ill. He was sitting longing for a smoke tvhen an obviously well-to-do family 'ame in, shepherded by aij attendant, rhere was a young father with a Van Oyke beard and a mother who for laint was a worlc of art in herself. Of ;hem, but rarely with them, was a roung boy. A jolly faced little chap he was, who ooked as if he could make friends with myone. The family looked pvetty >rosperous, and the Unemployed Man ippraised a good tip for $he attendant. They came to the Corots, and once nore the Unemployed Man listened to he attendant's eong of praise—same igures, same explanations, same "Oil's," :vcn the same dignified joke. Only the little boy was different, so resli and vital was he. The bloom on lis cheek mocked the artistry on the rails, the light in his eyes dimmed the >ainted sunbeams. The Unemployed Man couldn't take lis eye« off of him—he was the loveiest thing he had seen for months. They stared at each other and knew hey were two of a kind. Neither fitted n amongst the splendour of paint and :rtificial scenery. The mother tapped the boy lightly on he head. "Don't be rude, ttaring so." The boy ulled himself up with a jerk and began o slide across the highly polished floor, he Unemployed Man wanted to whistle he Skaters' Waltz for him. But ehe i'as speaking: "My dear, aren't they adorable—" ilie man stood back in agonised apreciation. So beautiful," she murmured in hapsod3*. VLxquisite," he agreed, going up close. We simply must get a Corot for our ollection," she'purred. Sure, I'll get in touch with our agent nd tell him to see what is on the maret." The Unemployed Man caught fraj»lents from the attendant's running ommentary. ° " . . . Execution precise and severe. -andscapes peopled by nymphs and oddesscs . . . Elusive tender moods, azy spring mornings." The Unemployed Man looked for tha °n^Lr aS cont ® m P lat ' n g a nude with puzzled expression. "' J . hat , Wr" ® ai <* the mother, and hepherded him hurriedly away. v ®, n t C 7 C n^ re , the b «y b egan his Skaters' vr °P ped °PP«)«te the Unemeturnedf an an gnnned - STin was n T Sr *. tared at each Other, balancing n the edge of «peech. The boy looked rt J V l ,y at his mother, and then mboldened by her interest in Art' SLdfa'S 1 7 ' Hi " It wa„ nK OOrP ° r u° D t0 his nearness. V'ant wo ° UR he wanted something. Lan cmnfl eth,n " the Unemployed ,or " c ,v °" u ' d hink C Hf" h< ; • e,,co,,rn ?« ! - Fie could .h a , " 0111 -"!" h ° c "" Id >«avo that urn a boy might want. Ihe boy gave hir„ « shccpi-d, nd looked round at his mother a-;ii n i ioase, sir—" r Unemployed Man liked that ll ro7" aSe ' haVC } " U ?0t " ci = arvU( -' I'icThe Unemployed Man glanced cvnially aronnd at the "Yes," he smiled. "I think I can just bout manage to find you that: - '